


Beautiful

by Alpha_Camolot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Work In Progress, cause I don't what I'm doing, dont mind these tags, im trying something, mostly Merlin Pov, pining!merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 16:46:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11536305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha_Camolot/pseuds/Alpha_Camolot
Summary: This is just a story with Merlin pining after Arthur.





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Does anyone even read these? Some people do. Anyway, I wrote this when I should have been sleeping. As I do with most of my stories. Which I'm trying to finish. I have such great ideas in my head. The challenge is getting the stories from my head onto my screen, so that I can pass it on to you guys. well yeah, I'm still writing. Okay onto the story.

When Merlin was young, he spent a lot of time contemplating the word ‘beautiful’. He would see girls showing off their new dresses. They would circle around and exclaim how ‘beautiful’ the other’s dress was. As Merlin got older, the boys started using the world more often as well. MaryAnn here and Roxy there. How beautiful they were, and as such needed beautiful tokens. Bouquets of flowers were so abundant, Merlin wondered if they would survive from all the pollen. Merlin didn’t understand it at all. His mom said he was a late bloomer, Will just winked and said more for him. Merlin loved his mother dearly. Her warm hands, her warm hugs. The bread pudding she made one saturday a month. She was pretty as well. Very pretty. She was a wonderful person, but Merlin wasn’t sure if she was beautiful. There wasn’t a woman alive as amazing as his mother, but ‘beautiful’ wasn’t the word Merlin liked to use. Understanding, strong, warm, kind. These all fit perfectly. But not beautiful. Merlin wondered if something was wrong with him. Merlin remembered when he and Will had snuck out to a lake not far away. 

“Look at that beautiful bird!” Will had exclaimed. Merlin followed his finger to look at the phoenix sitting in a tree nearby. Merlin had been shocked into silence. But even in that state, he remembered calling the bird gorgeous, not beautiful. He had been twelve then. A couple of years later, when he was sixteen, a girl named Freya had moved with her family to Ealdor. Not ten minutes went by without Merlin hearing how beautiful she was. Merlin thought her to be angelic, but still Merlin couldn’t find himself to see the beauty. In everything around him, Merlin could see its wonder, its value and potential. He could see its majesty and its energy, but never, did Merlin find anything beautiful. 

At least, not until he went to Camelot. He had been Arthur’s manservant for a week. He could have left after his second day of service, but for some reason he felt compelled to stay. There was just something about the prince that drew Merlin in. Merlin was starting to get the hang of things. He had set Arthur’s breakfast on the table and went to open the shades. He turned to his sleeping prince, and found himself stuck in his tracks. The rays of sunlight fell gently on his majesty. It highlighted strands of his hair, making it look like spun gold. Merlin was reminded of a tale he was told as a child. And now that Merlin thought about it, Arthur looked younger. Without yelling orders or tossing things at him, Arthur’s sharp features had softened. His smooth skin would make any hunk of polished marble absolutely envious. Arthur almost seemed like he had been chiseled out by the finest sculptor in all of Albion. And then, Arthur awoke. His eyes were as blue as a clear summer’s day. Merlin was left a bit gobsmacked. 

And then of course, Arthur being the prat he is, had to go and ruin the moment. He teased lightheartedly, and Merlin joked back as their day started. It wasn’t until Merlin had joked to far, that Arthur threw a shoe in his direction. Merlin just narrowly avoided it by slipping into the hall. Arthur’s laughter followed after him. Merlin had it ringing in his head. He was halfway down to the tailors when he realized something quite extraordinary. Merlin had thought that that sound, was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life. Over the next few days, Merlin noticed more and more beautiful things. Like the way Arthur’s wrist moved as he signed papers, or the line of dots on Arthur’s back. The way he smiled a little crooked, and laughed with his knights. How his cape billowed behind him when he walked, and the authoritative tone of his voice on the field. If Merlin hadn’t been crazy already, he was sure that he had gone mad by now. Arthur was driving Merlin up the wall. As Merlin lay wide awake in bed that night, he came to another shocking revelation. It wasn’t just the little things Merlin found beautiful about Arthur, it was all of him. He was beautiful. He thought that the way Arthur walked, talked, how he lead, was beautiful. He loved how beautiful Arthur’s eyes were when he laughed and they shone like diamonds. He loved the way Arthur’s nose sometimes scrunched up. Gosh. He loved Arthur. Completely. Merlin would have been shocked at how easily he had fallen in love, if not for the fact that he had diagnosed himself as mental. Merlin was sure that Gaius was under the impression of him being a bit touched. But if Gaius found out that his ward had gone and fallen in love with the crown prince of a kingdom that would see him burnt, he might collapse. For never before had anyone been so gravely inflicted in the head. Gaius would probably even consider making a case study out of him. Merlin cringed. Gaius possibly might do that if he found out. It was better if he didn’t. In fact, it was better if no one ever found out. Merlin spread all of his feelings bare before himself. Then he wrapped them up tight, and buried them as far as he possibly could. Merlin decided right then that not a single other soul would ever know.

When Merlin got up the next morning, doing his chores were suddenly so much harder. Now that he knew what he did, it was hard to keep it from all rushing forth. Having to hide his feelings, on top of his magic, was straining him thin. And Arthur was pressing him even further. Arthur was a handsy sort, and it was killing Merlin. He wanted more of the little pats on the shoulder, or the bouts of rough housing. He craved them. He wanted them to stop. Merlin was walking a very thin line. It was stressing him out and Merlin responded the only way he knew how. Quick words were a great defense in a village as tiny as Ealdor. Merlin was grateful for what he now considered his “training”, as all the garble he said kept him from revealing  secrets that shouldn’t be shared. Instead of telling Arthur how amazing he looked for the feast, Merlin warned him not to pack on more pounds. Instead of confessing his love, Merlin regaled him with the latest kitchen drama. Not a hint that he had magic ever passed his lips, instead informing Arthur of meetings and duties he had to complete. And his ultimate weapon you may ask? Sarcasm. Because sometimes Merlin could feel himself slipping. Could feel everything he tried to keep hidden rising to the surface. But with a quick joke here, or an insolent comment here, Arthur would throw something at him. Or dismiss him. And Merlin could slip into the hall, take a few deep breaths, and try to gain his self-control back. Arthur, or anyone for that matter, was never the wiser. Life continued on like this, and Merlin figured he could continue to love his beautiful prince in blissful secretism. 

How wrong he had been.

**Author's Note:**

> How dare I not have a next chapter? I'm sorry. I'm working on it. check back in a day or two.


End file.
